Blog sloth

Here’s my blogging failure excuse: Lots and lots of coaching. It’s like the ultra season has started or something. I’ve made file folders and charts and created a lovely system, so I should be up and blogging again each morning. I miss writing. And really, I miss responding when you all comment.

The WFA course up at SMU was pretty surreal. Our scenario space outside was right next to the beach volleyball courts. (When did beach volley ball courts become part of college outdoor rec centers?) Lots of young co-eds in small swimsuits frolicked about 20 feet to our left as we tried to get our students to believe they were in some remote wilderness location with a broken person to care for. The Boy Scout trip leaders were particularly distracted. We were able to make use of the courts on Sunday before the facility opened for a nice sea kayaking disaster scenario.

Then cheerleaders from across the state descended on the rec. The make-up these girls were wearing was impressive. Thick and glossy. I ran into a pack of them reapplying their faces in the women’s restroom during our lunch break. One of them was having trouble getting more lipstick to stick. “Did you see that? A clump just dropped off into the sink?” I really wanted to incorporate them into one of the scenarios — some sort of wilderness cheerleading basket toss gone wrong scenario — but they were pretty busy.

I ran 27.5 miles on Monday and my body absorbed it well. I had to run on the road in order to get it in before I picked up Asa from preschool. My back and chest got burned like a lobster. I forgot about that particular road running hazard. I was also wildly sore from all the blacktop pounding, but it’s faded pretty quickly. I’m going to go for 35 on Sunday and see how that goes. Today I’ve got some downhill miles on a treadmill scheduled. I need the miles because I bought jelly beans to fill the two dozen plastic eggs Asa has to bring into school — and I ate half a bag. Feeling kind of sick…

Ah! Jelly bean cravings, eh? Glad the running is on track, looks like you’re on course for your next outing.
Hee-hee – The cheerleader wilderness scenario sounds like it would be ripe for a Hollywood teen-horror-flick script, just add a few unexplained Pom-Pom injuries and some blood curdling baton twirling to the script and you’ve got a winner

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